Fifteen Years Later
by MagicFireTiger
Summary: Peeta wants the Mellark family to grow. Katniss has finally said yes. But the fact that it's not working is kind of ruining Katniss's Christmas. Read on to find out about the "star-crossed lovers'" Christmas fifteen years after the rebellion. Read on about their life and the beginning of their family. EVERLARK AND HAFFIE BABIES INCLUDED!
1. Chapter 1

Fifteen years. That's how long it's been since Panem was restored. Fifteen years since the day Prim's death really hit me.

Fifteen years since I killed Alma Coin.

Today is supposed to be a happy day. Obviously, it's happier than most, but the pain of losing Prim and Finnick and Rue and . . . my father . . . still hits me like a rock. It's supposed to be a day of celebration. It's supposed to be a time of family.

But the fact that half of my family is dead just seems to take away the whole spirit.

Today's Christmas Eve. I don't know what to feel today. I should be celebrating it with Prim, my father, my mother. . . .

I know I should be grateful. I mean, I am. I have Peeta. I have my mother. I even have Haymitch, who has sort of grown to be like a dad, or sort of uncle to me over these past fifteen years. He was the one who walked me down the aisle at my wedding to Peeta. And then—I honestly don't know how it happened—a couple years later, he ended up being at the end of it, Peeta taking Effie to him.

I've known about Christmas all my life, but with the starvation and the illness and the cruelness of life in District Twelve . . . there's never been much of anything to celebrate. The Capitol, of course, used to honor Christmas almost as much as the Hunger Games.

Now, it's pretty much the same everywhere. Except for me.

Christmas has definitely been more cheerful over the past fifteen years. But somehow, this year, it's a little . . . worse.

Peeta finally convinced me to start trying for a baby. I don't know if I'm ready, but each time the results come back negative . . . it's made me feel heartbroken. But maybe I'm not ready yet.

I don't know if I'll ever be ready.

Peeta's voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Katniss! Collin's about to put up the star! You don't wanna miss this!" he calls.

I don't turn my gaze from the book in my hands. It's the plant book that Peeta and I have been working on over the years. I've been studying it for several minutes now. We'd been decorating the Christmas tree, and I just started feeling so overwhelmed about it all, that I needed to come into Peeta's and my room.

After a moment of staring at the pages depicting nightlock berries (oh, the irony), I look up, rise from the bed on which I have been sitting, and leave the quiet, peaceful room. I walk out the door, into the hall, and soon enter the family room of Peeta's and my house in Victors' Village. Peeta, Effie, Haymitch, and their two little boys are all standing there. The little baby girl is in Effie's arms. Effie is staring affectionately at the youngest boy, Collin, who has the silver star in his hands and is standing in front of Haymitch. The oldest, Bracken, is sitting next to his mother on the sofa. My mother is sitting on Effie's other side. They are talking softly.

Peeta looks over at me as I enter the room, his face lighting up with a big smile.

"Just in time," he says, walking over to me and giving me a long kiss, which I return. We separate, and I smile.

"Merry Christmas," he says softly.

"It's not Christmas yet," I point out.

He grins more widely. "I know."

"Auntie Katniss! Auntie Katniss! Look, I'm gonna put up the star!" exclaims Collin, running over to me and waving the thing above his head.

"Well, look at that," I say, smiling.

"Yeah! Daddy's gonna lift me up now!" Collin turns around to Haymitch. "Pick me up now, Daddy!"

Haymitch gives one of the smiles that he's been giving a lot these past several year — that funny smirk. It's nice to see it.

"Sure thing, Collin," he says. He lifts the little boy that looks remarkably like himself (though a lot younger and a bit like Effie, too) up in his arms.

Collin's face is lit up with pure happiness as he takes the silver star and places it wonkily at the top of the Christmas tree, which is already filled to the brim with ornaments — most of them Effie's. His parents are looking on proudly (which is saying something when you consider whom his father is). So is my mother, who thinks of Collin and Bracken as grandchildren, or even sons of her own.

Little baby Jenny starts fussing a little, which breaks the silence. Haymitch lowers Collin down before loping over to me.

"What's up, sweetheart?" he says in a low tone of voice, so that the others can't hear him, probably. Effie has handed over Jenny to my mother, who calms the little baby down, before standing up high and fixing the tilted silver star.

"Nothing," I say dismissively.

"You left us just as Effie was putting up her favorite ornament, and she _never_ lets anyone miss that. _Something's_ wrong."

I don't answer him, but continue staring at little Jenny in my mother's arms.

I wonder if she'll ever hold any grandchildren of her own.

"Test come back negative again?" asks Haymitch, interrupting my thoughts.

I am silent.

He gives a soft smile. "You'll get there, sweetheart." Then he pats my back briefly and walks over to his sons.

Peeta has been talking with them, playing with them. When Haymitch comes over, Peeta leaves him alone with his sons and walks over to me.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," I reply.

"What's up?" Peeta asks.

That's the same thing Haymitch said to me — minus the "sweetheart" part, of course.

I sigh. "I don't know if I'm ready to be a mother or not. I don't know how I feel when I'm told I'm not going to be one."

Peeta gives me a long, hard look.

"As long as I have you," he says finally, "I don't care if it takes five, ten more years to have a child. And if it turns out we can't have one . . . we can always adopt."

I nod slightly.

"But let's celebrate Christmas right now, okay?" Peeta continues.

I nod and give a small smile. "Okay."

We wall over to Haymitch, Effie, their children, and my mother, and I realize that what Peeta says is true.

No matter how long it takes . . . no matter how ready I am. . . .

Someday, Peeta and I will be parents.

The next morning dawns bright and crisp and cold. Peeta is still asleep when I wake up, snoring gently.

The bedcovers rustle as I climb out of bed and pull on a bathrobe, which warms me up a lot. I walk over to the window in our room and stare out at the snow covering the area.

I think of the president himself, even though I do not want to.

"Hey."

I zoom around, my heart beating a little quicker than it should. But it quickly dies down as I see that the voice is that of Peeta. He is sitting up in bed.

"Hey," I say. I walk over and crawl into bed next to him.

Peeta breathes in deeply. "Merry Christmas," he says.

"Merry Christmas," I say back.

There is silence. We are both staring out the window.

"Katniss," says Peeta after a few moments, breaking the silence, "you are upset. Real or not real?"

A small smile plays on the edge of my lips. I hesitate before saying with a sigh, "Real."

"Katniss, you are upset about the fact that you are not a mother yet. Real or not real?" Peeta continues.

"Real."

"Katniss," says Peeta for the third time, "you know that we can always adopt. Real or not real?"

I pause again, this time for a lot longer.

"Real," I say finally.

"Good," says Peeta. "Now let's go see if Bracken and Collin are ready to see their presents from Santa."

I nod, and we both climb out of bed. Immediately, I hear a knock at the front door.

Peeta smiles. "Guess that's them," he says softly.

"Guess so," I reply.

Two hours later, our house in Victors' Village is filled nearly to the brim with people. We switch off with Haymitch and Effie and Annie and Finnick Jr. every year. This year, it's our turn. Haymitch and Effie's family is over, Annie and Finnick Jr. have come to visit from District Four, my mother is here, Plutarch Heavensbee comes occasionally (including this time), Johanna has come with her boyfriend, Axel, Beetee is here, and Greasy Sae has come over to help Effie and Annie come cook a Christmas dinner.

And, of course, my mother had to bring Buttercup's two youngest descendants and their mama with her, too.

We have eaten brunch, and are now opening presents. This year, Peeta's gift to me is a pearl.

"I hope you like it," he says, his expression anxious. "It's a replica of the other one; I know you lost that one last Christmas, so. . . ."

I look up at him, and he trails off.

"It's perfect," I say. He grins.

"All right now, time for my gifts to everyone!" says Effie, bending down to the Christmas tree, where all of the presents are piled.

I suddenly feel the need to use the bathroom. Excusing myself quietly, I leave the room.

I look at the little stick in the trashcan that I used yesterday, showing the sign that I am not pregnant.

I guess I can see again.

My fingers are trembling slightly as I lift up the little stick. My eyes are closed. I don't want to know what it says.

It's probably negative, anyway.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea envelopes me. I am too scared to see, so I throw it in the trashcan without a second glance, wash my hands, staring blankly into the mirror, and head back to the living room, where Effie has passed out all of her gifts.

She frets over me, saying that I look pale, and hands me the pink-wrapped box.

"Well!" she says expectantly as I stare at the thing. "Open up!"

I unwrap the present. It is a small box like the ones that carry bracelets and necklaces and things.

I look up. Peeta has one exactly the same.

"At the same time?" he asks.

I nod.

"One — two — three," says Peeta.

At "three," we both lift up the lids of the boxes. In mine sits a small, silver bracelet. I pull it out of its velvet casing and look at the letters etched in it.

 _T.E.A.M._

I look up to see that Peeta is holding the same thing as me.

Effie is beaming at us broadly, as though it is the showing of the Hunger Games. "See? I got one for Haymitch, too! It's our last initials — well, what mine _used_ to be, anyway, but I recently realized that they all spell out to be 'team'! Trinket — me; Everdeen — Katniss; Abernathy — Haymitch; and Mellark — Peeta. So I had a friend from the Capitol engrave four of them for me to give out as Christmas presents! Aren't they _wonderful_?"

I smile at her. "Thanks, Effie."

Her beam widens. "You're quite welcome, Katniss!" She turns to her husband. "Haymitch, show them yours!"

Haymitch holds up the little bracelet that could go well on a man's or boy's arm in his hand. "Here."

"Wonderful!" exclaims Effie, clapping her hands together. "Now, if you would excuse me, I need to go use the restroom. . . ."

She steps past us and slips into the hallway.

I watch as fourteen-year-old Finnick Jr. plays 'cars' with Bracken and Collin, and I smile.

Suddenly, a shriek sounds from the hallway.

"Katniss, I didn't know you were pregnant!"

My head spins. What? What is Effie talking about?

I'm not pregnant . . . am I?

"Katniss?" Peeta gives me a questioning look that holds many traces of excitement and nervousness.

Suddenly, I feel like throwing up. I run into the kitchen, and with a sickening splat, green throw-up is showered into the empty sink.

I am really glad I did the dishes earlier.

"Katniss!" Peeta and my mother and Annie run into the room, followed by Haymitch and the boys, Jenny in his arms. Then Effie comes up from behind them, a look of mingled happiness and surprise on her face.

I wipe some sick from my chin with my sleeve.

"Y-yeah?" I stutter. Then I throw up in the sink again.

"Katniss, why didn't you tell us you were pregnant?" asks Effie, rushing up to me.

"I — I didn't know," I say, dumbfounded, because I didn't.

"Well!" says Effie. "I found the test in the trash can, and it was positive, so obviously you are! I mean, look at the state of you! You look absolutely green, darling."

I give a soft chuckle, but can't say anything.

"Katniss?" Peeta asks gently. He looks at a loss for words.

"Yes?" I say.

He pauses, possibly weighing his next words. Then he says, a grin sliding onto his face,

"You're going to be a wonderful mother."

Merry Christmas to me.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hi, guys. :) Thanks for checking this out. This is an early Christmas gift to you all! :D Please review and favorite and let me know what you think! I'll be very happy. :)**

 **By the way, I've never experienced any of this stuff that I'm mentioning for Katniss firsthand, but from what I've read and watched and learned from my own mother, I think I get the general idea . . . ehe. . . .**

 **Thanks again SO MUCH!**

 **~MagicFireTiger**

 **P.S. Any of you out there seen "Mockingjay Part 2" yet? IT'S EPIC!**

 **Now time for my craziness to subside.**

 **PLEASE REVIEW, AND VIRTUAL COOKIES WILL BE REWARDED! ALONG WITH INVISIBLE MOCKINGJAY PINS!**

 ***does Rue's whistle and Panem's "goodbye" sign***


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just saw "Mockinjay Part 2" for the second time. THE FEELS!**

 **So I thought it'd be necessary to post a second chapter to this. There will be more to come, just not on a definite date.**

 **Read on!**

* * *

Chapter Two

"So, Katniss, we need to talk."

I look up from the book in my lap to see Peeta looking at me.

"About what?" I ask, a feeling of slight foreboding creeping up in my stomach. Having been in the Hunger Games twice can make you uncertain about anything. I start to feel a bit sick.

"Names," Peeta replies. He plops down in the chair in front of me. A notebook a pencil are in his hands.

I hesitate. Then I say, "We only found out four days ago, Peeta. We don't even know if it's going to be a boy or a girl yet." A drop of fear enters me. What if something goes wrong? What if . . . what if I'm not ready yet?

"I don't care," says Peeta. "We should write down a list of names, anyways." He opens the notebook and puts the pencil to the paper.

There is a pause as I stare out the window past his shoulder. There is a mockinjay singing on a branch. I think of my father's song.

"So?" asks Peeta, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

"So what?" I ask.

"So have you got any names?" says Peeta.

"No," I say.

He rolls his eyes. "Come on, Katniss, you gotta think of _some_ thing."

I sigh. "Fine. How about . . . Haymitch?" I say sarcastically.

Peeta gives me a look. "Come on, be serious here."

"Fine then. . . ." My mind darts around, searching for something for him to write down so that I can get back to my book. I really don't care for this right now. Suddenly, an idea comes to my mind, and I give a small and devious grin.

"What about 'Come'?" I say.

Peeta's eyebrows scrunch together. "That's a name?" he asks.

I shrug. "On. Be. Serious. Here."

Peeta gives me another look. "Do you really want to name your child 'on'?"

"No," I say.

"Then be serious!" exclaims Peeta.

"I am being serious!" I protest.

"No, you're not!" counters Peeta.

"Fine then, if you know everything, give some of your ideas!" I say.

Suddenly, we both burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay," hiccups Peeta after a minute or so, "fine. Let's think. . . ."

"Tag! You're it!"

Peeta and I look at each other.

"What was that?" I ask.

He shrugs.

"Now _you're_ it, Bracken!"

I smile. "Sounds like Collin and Bracken are playing tag, huh?"

"Oh, you've got me!"

Peeta and I exchange baffled looks.

"And Haymitch," he says.

"Why don't you go out with them?" I say. "Have fun with the other boys."

"Oh, do be careful, Collin!"

Peeta grins evilly at me. "You'll be the only one left in a house if you don't come with me."

I sigh. "Fine," I say.

Peeta takes my hand in his and pulls me up. Then he smiles and plants a quick kiss on my lips before pulling me out of the house.

"Look! It's Auntie Katniss!" exclaims Collin, running over to me and almost bowling me over.

"Don't knock her down, Collin!" chides Effie, coming over to me. Jenny is in her arms.

"Sorry, Mama!" says Collin.

"You're it!" shouts a voice in my ear.

I yelp and turn around to see Haymitch, who has just bopped me right in the back, start running in the opposite direction.

"Haymitch!" I exclaim.

"Oh, no! The Girl on Fire is about to get me!" Haymitch calls in mock fear from the other side of Victors' Village.

"Oh, yes she is," I say under my breath, and start running after him.

Haymitch is fast. I am fast. He is slightly faster than I am — but he also runs out of energy faster, which gives _me_ the advantage.

I start running after him, and he darts to the side. Adrenaline is pumping inside of me as I chase after him.

As it turns out, years of drinking and being a mentor in the Games have not taken as much toll as I thought — or maybe it's the fact that that is now over and he has Effie and his kids by his side, because Haymitch is now running faster than ever.

I am breathing very hard. The cold winter air is stinging against my face. The adrenaline is running out.

Haymitch seems to be leading me somewhere, but it's not until I pass by a familiar tree that I see that we are going to the Meadow. Why are we going there?

Suddenly, Haymitch collapses on the ground underneath a familiar willow tree. With the remaining ounce of strength I have, I chase after him and drop down beside him.

"Gotcha," I say, tapping his shoulder. He doesn't move, but continues staring out at the snow-covered grass.

"Hey," I continue. "Haymitch?"

After a long pause, Haymitch turns to me. "You got me, sweetheart," he says, grinning slightly.

"What's up?" I say.

He shakes his head slowly. "Just . . . thinking."

"About what?" Now I sound like Peeta. Or Haymitch himself.

"The Games."

I nod. "Yeah. I've thought about them a lot lately, too."

Haymitch turns to me. "You know, the Games are the worst and the best things that have happened to me."

"How?" I sigh.

"If it wasn't for the Games, Maysilee wouldn't have died. Heck, I wouldn't have gotten to know her if it wasn't for the Games. I'm glad I did, but. . . ." Haymitch shakes his head. "The ending to our friendship was too brutal."

I am silent. He turns to me.

"You miss that Rue girl, don't you?" he asks.

I nod. My eyes start to tear up a bit.

Haymitch turns back to the snow on the grass and the sun starting to set. "Yup. The Games are a blessing and a curse to the two of us. On the one hand, you met Peeta. I met Effie. On the other. . . ."

"Children are dead because of them," I say. I stare at the same spot that Haymitch is.

Haymitch nods. "Exactly. Children are dead. All because of Snow.

"But children were born, too."

I look at him.

"Some of them not quite yet." Haymitch grins slightly at me and looks down at my stomach.

I follow his gaze. "Yeah." I rub my belly absentmindedly.

There is a silence.

Then Haymitch sighs. "I'm glad my children don't have to experience that. I'm glad yours don't, either. I'm glad no other kids have to fight twenty-three others to the death."

"Me, too," I say.

Me, too.

Now that Haymitch is talking about it, I realize that I really am grateful that the Games have ended.

If they hadn't . . . I might not be here right now. Peeta might not be here right now.

And if somehow it had worked out, if we hadn't been in the Quarter Quell, if the Games had gone on as usual after we became Victors of a game that really doesn't have any. . . .

My child might have to experience that horror.

Bracken would have only one year before the nightmares began.

"Katniss! Haymitch!"

We both turn around to see Peeta, Effie, and the two little boys running after us.

"What happened?" asks Peeta, plopping down beside me.

"Yeah! Is the game over?" asks little Collin sadly.

Haymitch and I exchange brief looks.

"Yes, Collin, the game's over," he says to his son.

"But, _Da-ad_ . . ." Collin pouts.

"' _Da-ad_ ' is tired. Go play with Mama," says Haymitch.

"Okay, then," says Collin. He turns to Effie. "Will you play tag with me and Bracken and Peeta and Katniss and Jenny?"

Effie chuckles good-naturedly. "Oh, Collin, darling, Jenny is too young to play tag! And I've got to take care of her. Why don't you ask Peeta and Katniss to play with you and Bracken, hmm?"

Collin considers the idea for a moment. Then he says, "Okay!" excitedly, and adds to Peeta and me, "Will you play with us?"

Peeta looks at me. "You up to it?" he asks.

I smile. "Sure," I say.

Peeta grins. "Perfect."

We play tag for a long time after that. Then, Collin decides to start building snowmen. Then we have a snowball fight. It's rather crazy, to be frank. Effie ends up joining in after my mother wanders over to us and holds Jenny so that Effie can play. The game ends uncertainly, as Collin (who is on a team with Effie and me) shouts out that he doesn't want to play with girls any more, which makes Effie and me pretend to be offended and Peeta and Haymitch laugh.

So the snowball fight ends without a winner — just like the Games.

There I go, thinking about them again.

Ehem.

I sigh and look out across the Meadow. If only . . . if only a few more people had been spared. . . .

I gulp back a sob and rub the building wetness from my eyes. Stupid baby hormones.

I look down at my belly and rub it. A trickle of mixed fear and excitement fills my stomach. Right now, I'm in charge of the life of a brand new life. I'm carrying a child. I have responsibility of this tiny thing that isn't showing yet.

And I feel overwhelmed.

"Better get dinner going," I hear Peeta say behind me. "It's getting dark."

I nod as the others agree rather more verbally. I turn around and walk beside Peeta as we all trudge up to the Victors' Village, sighing and leaning on him. He wraps an arm around me and turns to glance at me.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," I reply.

"Tired?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say.

He breathes out a deep puff of air. "Me too," he says softly, almost a whisper.

We walk on in silence as the sun sinks below the horizon.

"I miss them," I say after several moments.

He stays silent. He knows who I am talking about.

"Me too, Katniss," he says at last.

As we step into Victors' Village and up to Peeta's and my house, I notice the garden he planted in front of it what seems a million years ago. I stop. I release myself gently from Peeta's arm and wander over to it, bending down to look at it.

The primroses he planted there are frosted over, sleeping. Dead, like Prim.

Tears run down my face, but then something comes to mind, something I wish hadn't and am so grateful it had.

I turn and look up at Peeta.

"Peeta," I say.

"Yeah?" he asks at the open front door to our house.

"I think I know a good name for a girl," I say.

"Yeah?" he repeats.

"Primrose," I say softly, turning back to the wilted, frozen-over plants. "Rose for short."

He pauses, and then comes over to me, shutting the door behind him. He wraps his arms around me, and I turn to look at him.

"I think that's a wonderful name," Peeta says after a moment.

I look at him. I look at the flowers.

"I miss her, Peeta," I say. It comes out as a sob.

"Me too, Katniss," he says. "But she's somewhere safe. You know, I bet that wherever she is, she's best friends with Rue. She's safe, Katniss. She's with your dad. She's safe."

I gulp. "I know. I just wish she was here."

"She'll always be here, Katniss."

I look up at Peeta. "You think?"

"Always."


End file.
